


Bear magic, bare magic

by Rusakko



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Bears, Finnish folk beliefs, Gen, Humor, Magic, Silly, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 08:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rusakko/pseuds/Rusakko
Summary: Dying while fighting a bear with your bare hands is heroic. Dying while fighting it with your bare butt, not so much.When a hungry bear starts following the crew, Lalli and Tuuri convince Sigrun to try some rather exotic Finnish magic to get rid of it.





	Bear magic, bare magic

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on real Finnish folk beliefs. It's also very silly.

”So he’s sure that it’s still following us?”  
The scout nods curtly as Tuuri relays the question.  
“And… he said the tracks were closer to the camp this morning”, the skald adds. She points at Lalli’s scribbles on the map. “He followed it all the way here…” Tuuri traces the squiggly red line with her finger, “…but he lost the trail after that. It rained pretty hard last night.”  
Sigrun can attest to that. Their patched tent didn’t keep much of it out. Her uniform is still damp.

That, though, is the least of her problems. They’ve lost the tank, for one thing ‒ their means of transport and their main source of shelter. To make things worse, they’ve lost most of their bounty along with it. And, of course, there’s the looming knowledge that Tuuri is almost certainly infected, which makes their other problems seem insignificant in comparison.

However, at this precise moment, the most pressing issue she has to deal with is a bear. Not even an infected bear-beast, just a regular, dumb old bear. It has probably been woken up from hibernation by the unseasonably warm and wet weather. In its sleep-addled bear-brain, it has decided that the crew’s meagre food supply (or possibly one or more of the crew members) would make a nice mid-winter snack.

The first time it appeared at the edge of their camp, Emil’s blood-curdling scream (along with the badly aimed spray of gunfire he managed to direct everywhere except at the bear) was enough to frighten it away. Unfortunately, the noise also attracted a swarm of small trolls. Nobody got much sleep that night.

The next evening, Reynir surrounded the perimeter of their camp with runes that he said were supposed to keep predators away from sheep. In the morning, they woke up to find the wheelbarrow that had contained half of their food supply raided and Emil, who’d had the last watch, fast asleep by the smoking remains of their campfire. Sigrun supposed they should feel lucky that the bear had decided to eat Mikkel’s disgusting sludge and not the cleanser. Upon inspection, they found bear droppings on top of one of Reynir’s protective runes. Lalli seemed darkly amused by that.

The night after that, the scout would’ve had a clear shot at the animal, but he _refused to take it_. Instead, he opted for firing above its head while yelling something that sounded like Finnish poetry. According to Tuuri, he thought that his gods would be pissed off if he killed an uninfected bear. Sigrun thought that that sounded stupid. Her own gods appreciated a nice bit of bloodshed as much as anyone. Maybe the Finnish gods were of a wimpier sort.

No matter how happy Lalli’s gods may be with him, though, Sigrun still has a hungry bear to deal with.  
“Well, we can’t afford to spend time on hunting it down, so unless the two of you have any bright ideas, we’ll just have to keep even more careful watch at night”, she tells Tuuri a little sharply. They were low on rations even before the bear pillaged their supplies, and they really need to make sure it doesn’t get to snack on their food again. “Go help Mikkel pack, I want to take another look at today’s route”, she adds as a dismissal.

Sigrun returns her attention to the map as Tuuri tows her cousin away by his elbow. They’re not making as good progress as she hoped before they set off. Their packs are heavy, and the wheelbarrow Emil and Lalli found is not ideal in the forest terrain they’re trekking through. They should still be able to make it to the pickup point in time, but it’ll be a closer thing than she’d like.

She’s vaguely aware of Lalli and Tuuri having a mumbled conversation a few paces away, but she ignores it until a sudden, loud squawk from Tuuri makes her head snap up.

Tuuri is spluttering at Lalli, obviously outraged at something her cousin has said. The scout, meanwhile, has a stubborn expression on his narrow face as he cuts through Tuuri’s indignant stream of words with a few sharp ones of his own. For some reason, they’re both gesturing towards Sigrun.

“Okay, kids, whatever it is you’re whispering about, I’d like to hear it”, she calls. Tuuri looks like she’d rather back away, but Lalli grabs her by the shoulders and marches her over. Sigrun is curious to see that Tuuri is actually blushing.  
“Well?” she asks. Tuuri squirms. Lalli pokes her with his finger.  
“There’s a magic thing that Lalli wants to try”, Tuuri says reluctantly. “And he needs your help for it.”

***

“He wants me to show the bear my _what_?”  
Can she have misheard? Maybe there’s some difference between Swedish and Norwegian that she isn’t aware of? But the way Tuuri is looking anywhere except at Sigrun indicates that there’s no misunderstanding here. Unfortunately.  
“Did Mikkel put you up to this?” is where Sigrun’s mind leaps next. It would be rather crass compared to his usual type of pranks, but maybe the stress of their situation is getting to him as well.  
“No!” Tuuri squeaks. “Look, it was Lalli’s idea and not mine, but it _is_ a thing that people do back home.” Beside her, Lalli is loking completely serious. Tuuri has a devious side to her, but Sigrun has a very difficult time believing that her cousin would try to pull this kind of a prank on his commanding officer.

That doesn’t make the suggestion any less ridiculous.  
“If he thinks all it takes to scare the bear away is to wave your private parts at it, why doesn’t he do it himself? He’s the mage here, not me!”  
Tuuri still looks like she’d rather be eaten alive by a troll than continue the conversation, but she bravely ploughs on.  
“It doesn’t work like that. It, uh, it has to be a woman. There’s this power ‒ a magic thing ‒ that men don’t have, and ‒”  
“And the way to unleash it is to take your pants off?”  
Tuuri nods mutely.  
“Well, you’re a woman too”, Sigrun reminds her. “If you actually believe in this stuff, you can do it.”  
But the scout firmly shakes his head when Tuuri relays this.  
“He says I’m too young, and… and…” she falters. Lalli, glaring daggers at Sigrun, silently points at Tuuri’s injured arm. “It doesn’t work if you’re sick”, Tuuri finishes quietly.

Shit. _Way to go, asshole_ , Sigrun mentally berates herself. _She’s probably going to die, and you’re being mean to her. What harm would it do to indulge her a little?_

Seizing the chance while Sigrun is silent, Lalli lets out some more Finnish gibberish.  
“Apparently you’re on the young side, too, but Lalli thinks your… personality will make up for it. You need a powerful woman to intimidate a bear.”  
Okay, that sounds vaguely flattering, although Sigrun suspects that Tuuri may have left something out from Lalli’s comments about her personality.  
“Our grandma used to do it”, Tuuri unexpectedly adds. “She was a mage, too, and really old, so even people from other villages would ask her to come and frighten bears away.”  
“With her…?” Sigrun gestures downwards.  
“Yeah. They said that one time, she stood without pants for three days straight to scare off a bear, and the cattle in that village was safe for the next three years…”

That decides it. If some ancient little Finnish grandmother could do it, then so can Sigrun.  
“Fine, fine, I’ll do it”, she cuts in. “But”, and she fixes both of them with her very best steely captain glare, “if I find out later that this was a joke, I swear that I’ll hand-feed both of you to the bear myself.”

***

Sigrun does not feel particularly powerful. In fact, she mostly feels stupid. Stupid and cold. Her pants are only down to her knees, but the chilly night air still feels unpleasant on her bare skin. They’ve got a fire going, both for warmth and light, but it doesn’t do much to help Sigrun, since her naked butt is directed away from it.

“So”, Mikkel tilts his head to the side, “any magical sensations so far?”  
“Shut up”, Sigrun grumbles. Mikkel has been insufferable the whole day. The grudging respect he’s begun to display towards Reynir’s runes apparently doesn’t extend to this particular brand of magic.  
“Well, do let us know if the cold becomes un _bear_ able ‒”  
Sigrun scoops up some snow to throw at him.

Emil and Reynir are both keeping their eyes resolutely on the edge of the forest surrounding their little campsite. Sigrun suspects that it’s as much an attempt to hide their embarrassment as it is a genuine effort to spot the bear. It’s ridiculous, really, how awkward the situation feels. Even Tuuri is doing her best not to look at Sigrun, even though _she_ definitely doesn’t risk seeing anything she hasn’t seen before.

Sigrun has never been particularly shy about her body. In the military, you get used to seeing the people you work with in various states of undress. This little trip has been no exception. By now, they’ve all seen each other wearing fewer clothes than Sigrun is at the moment. She supposes that it mostly feels weird because this time, everyone else gets to keep their clothes on.

Oh, right, and then there’s the fact that she’s purposefully trying to show her goods to a bear. Definitely nothing awkward about _that_.

At least Mikkel, despite his merciless teasing, is acting like a normal person. Maybe it’s because he’s a medic. They have to handle all kinds of embarrassing stuff. And Lalli, of course, is being his usual, expressionless self, ignoring everything else in favour of staring out into the darkness. His eyes almost seem to be glowing.

Embarrassment aside, Sigrun’s back is starting to ache from the slightly bent-over position she’s in. Also, it’s _really_ getting kind of cold.  
“Hey, Tuuri”, she hisses. “Can you ask Twig how long I have to ‒”  
She’s silenced by furious shushing from the scout. Lalli is gripping his rifle, eyes wide. Suddenly, Mikkel sits up straighter too, all traces of amusement gone from his face. Emil and Reynir, turning, get the same wide-eyed expression when they see whatever the others are staring at.

If she strains her ears, Sigrun thinks she can faintly hear something rustling behind her. Her crew members all seem to be holding their breath. Tuuri has one hand pressed over her mouth.

Sigrun dearly hopes that Lalli will get over the thing with his gods and use his rifle if the bear decides to attack. She doubts dying of a bear-bite to the butt would qualify her for Valhalla. Dying while fighting a bear with your bare hands is heroic. Dying while fighting it with your bare butt, not so much.

The tension stretches out for what feels like several minutes. Then, just when Sigrun thinks she’s going to go crazy if something doesn’t happen soon, Lalli visibly relaxes and lowers his rifle. This seems to be the cue for everyone else to unfreeze as well.  
“It worked!” Tuuri performs a little victory dance and almost stumbles into the fire. Reynir is babbling excitedly in Icelandic.  
“It really just… turned around and left…” Emil mumbles, looking a little shocked.  
Mikkel rolls his eyes.  
“It was probably frightened off by the fire.”  
Lalli actually rises to his feet and solemnly _bows_ at Sigrun before slinking off towards the edge of the camp.  
“Hey!” Sigrun yells after him. “Can I put my pants back on now?”

***

There are no more bear incidents that night, and in the morning, Lalli reports that the creature’s tracks lead away from the camp in a straight line, as if the bear had tried to put as much distance between itself and the crew as possible. Sigrun can’t help but feel a little smug.  
“Coincidence”, Mikkel insists, but in Sigrun’s opinion, there’s a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Coincidence or not, it’ll make a good story to tell. “Sigrun Eide, the captain who chased a troll away with her bare ass.” It’ll get some good laughs, for sure.

Though maybe she should add another bear or two, she reflects as they’re packing up the camp and getting ready for another gruelling day of marching. Maybe a little bit of knife-fighting as well. Just to make the story more fun.

***

The story about Sigrun’s bare-assed knife fight with three bears, a moose and a small giant becomes a legend in Dalsnes.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, what I needed to counteract my lack of energy and motivation to write was not the pile of half-finished "serious" fics I've got lying around. No, it was a story about Sigrun scaring a bear away with her vagina.
> 
> In Finnish folklore, the vagina was believed to have pretty strong magical powers. One thing that these powers could be used for was frightening bears away so they wouldn't come eat your cattle. This was done by a strong older woman, who would stand with her skirts raised and her back towards the forest. The longer she stood there, the longer the bears would stay away. The term for this is _pyllytys_ ( _pylly_ means "butt").


End file.
